Halo - The Future
by Architectural Oshawott
Summary: Set 100 years after the 'New-York Times' bestselling 'Halo' novels, follow an entirely new set of Spartans, now branched into two betallions, as both new and familiar threats attempt to break the frial treaty agreed upon by humans and Sangheilis under the 'Halo agreement', and witness the Ring Worlds unleash a new enemy, beyond any humanity has faced before...(on haitus)
1. Chapter 1

The forest was dark, the last glimses of sunlight fading amongst the inner-most mountain terrain. The natural architecture towered above us, absolute. I activated my HUD's advanced night-vision, silently and efficently. Augemented by my enhanced vision, I was able to make out three hostiles, silently advancing towards the west, _to__wards _the convoy.

Three shots. Three bodies crumpled to the ground.

'Bravo-23, Enemies sighted and destroyed.' I whispered through the COM channel. 'Expect more, I'm bringing the party to you.'  
'Hold tight, Spartan-978, draw their line of fire, back-up is at your six.' the voice replied, assuring me that a safety net _was _in place. I took in a deep breath, allowing myself to zone out.  
In front of me layed _dozens _of the careless Unggoy, scampering aimlessly around their fortress, a naturally-occuring hill, hollowed out, and now used by the clumsy alien's rulers, the Sangheli. The massive aliens stood an incredible 7-feet tall, giving them a much better vantage point than the common fodder they've used thus far. I briefly remembered the history lesson the AI, _Antel, _had given us, about what became known as the 'Halo Wars', the war against humanity by a collective orginisation known as the 'Covenent'. It lead to the destruction of many of our planets, then known collectively as the 'Inner' and 'Outer' colonies. All this happened 100 years ago...and _two _of the races that featured in the massacre were standing in front of me!  
It was enough to make my skin crawl!  
But a plan was a plan: Draw the enemy _away _from the nucleur strike that was about to hit it, cleanly obileterating the alien-made fortress! They had trespassed on human-held space, breaking the agreement under the 'Halo' act. Now, they were going to pay!  
'Spartan-978, engaging.' I stated coldly to COMMS, and rushed from my hiding spot, sneaking up on the unsuspecting aliens in a flurry of motion! Blades extruded from my armor's arm-pieces, revealing deadly alloys, about to be put into good use. The first pair of Unggoy had barely enough time to register just _what _was plunged into their skulls when I moved on, silently dispatching the second group in the same emotionless fashion. I hid behind a small boulder, waiting for the next patrol of aliens to walk by, witness the bodies of their brethren lying before them, and let their guard down, _just _as I side-step, plunging the blades into every individual Alien's skull, quick and painless.  
Satisfied, I hefted my MAB-10 assult rifle from my weapons slot, located on my back, and inspected it throughly. It was offically still in testing, possessing the ability to fire semi-explosive rounds at the rate of 5 rounds per second. What made me smile, however, was the fact that, by pressing a button, located on the undercarrige of the weapon, the fired rounds would detonate, inflicting _further _damage!

This _was, _however, still a theory.

I aimed the weapon towards my first Sangheili, beginning to spot the bodies laying carelessly on the ground, and fired a single round, taking out the ungainly Alien. Smiling, I waited patiently for his partner to examine the body, and stared directly into my eyes-too late.  
I pressed the button.  
The top of the hill exploded in a fiery-ball of earth and metal, the alien I intended to destroy sailing through the air, in pieces...followed by _two _more of it's allies!  
The explosive rounds would need to be pared-back if it is to be suitable for use in close-quarters.  
The rest of the convoy, however, managed to focus their efforts on me, at last, firing carelessly-aimed shots towards me. Masses of plasma detonated harmlessly around me. I retreated, firing three more shots, detonating them with each round. Aliens were tossed twenty-feet into the air, landing unnaturally on rocks and boulders below. Many more, however, were now pouring out of their encampment!

_much _more than briefing claimed! more than a _hundred _of them!

I swore, and switched to my fail-safe notion, pressing the triangular-shaped button on my chest.  
In a matter of seconds, virtual copies of myself srung into life, forming a _much _more threatening vision! The Virtual Image Generator, or 'VIG' for short, was also an experimental prototype, involving _hundreds _of hours performing every tactical maneover in the book, all recorded in front of a special, high-definition camera. What this translated into, was that the virtual copies of myself generated the illusion of performing unique battle positions, creating a _much _more convincing smoke-screen. They were, however, glorified distractions. I ran, dashing towards the realative protection of the forest behind me. The pursuers, however, 'engaged' the holograms, completely fooled. Even better, it seemed they were all out in the open!  
'Bravo-23, light them up.' I requested, a grin threatening to erupt across my face.  
Before the dimiuitve aliens had time to react, _six _Pelican-III's hovered above them, dominating. They fired several hundred thousand rounds of well-hardened ammunitions, decimating the unfortunate Unggoy, tearing through the primitive shields of their leaders, tearing them apart, limb from limb. In a matter of miniutes, the remaining opposition was silenced.  
'Good work, Spartan.' A familiar voice erupted through the Comms channel, _definately _not the cold, calculated voice of Bravo-23, but that of the Spartan's personal trainer, Lt. Jones. It felt good to hear his voice again. I had spent three weeks on this God-forsaken planet, eliminating the rouge forces disrupting food supplies, killing dozens of workers. I smiled in satisfaction as one of the Pelican-III's landed in the vast plain that streched ahead, allowing me to view the two identical moons towering above, floating so close to the planet's surface it defied belief!  
'Gotta get some R&R.' I joked, prompting laughter from the other side of the secure channel.  
'Rest when your dead, solider.' The Luitenant replied, flying safely away towards the planet's atmosphere, not looking back towards the Alien stronghold, dissolved into rubble by the miniature atomic-bomb.

Spartan-634 stood perfectly still, the air-conditioning the ship sported flowing through her recently-shaved head. The sensation was uncomfortable, yet she _dared _not move!

Not in the presence of a _R__ear _Admiral!

'At ease, Solider.' The woman stated, her voice rusted with age. The Spartan relaxed, placing her hands behind her back. _Why _the Admiral was here was perhaps classified, and her very presence meant that something important had occured. That, and the fact that the old woman had called _personally _for the Spartan Team-Leader, meant that something _terrible _had occured! The Spartan gulped, more as a nessecity than by fear, but the action spoke volumes.  
'Quite an established record.' The Admiral commended, staring straight into her solider's eyes. Not many people had the privelige of doing so, most having to make do with witnessing their reflections against the Spartan's helmets, viewed as cold, calculated machines. Yet the Admiral had the authority, and the insistance, to order the Spartan to remove her helmet, to bypass the Spartan legend, to focus on the human inside the armor.  
'Elizebeth.' she began, stunning the solider, but perhaps unnessecerily so. People _this _high up on the food chain had access to several normally classified files, the Spartan bios among them.  
'What do you know of the Halo agreement?' she asked, moving closer towards me, now having to look _up _towards the Spartan, when the roles should have been reversed!  
'The Halo protocol - established 2567, states that any forces of Human or Covenent origin may _not _form military encampments withing one-another's controlled space, as set forth by Admiral Hood and the Sangheili known as the 'Arbitar'. Failure to follow this protocal is punishable by the Death penalty, and the authority granted by the opposing side to dispatch their intruders in any way they see fit, the intruders having waived their right to diplomatic immunity.' she responded, word for word, the exact transription she had read in every file, there for emphasis, that she had been briefed with.  
'Very good.' The Admiral responded, slowly pacing towards a giant-screen, pressing a button. There was video-footage of a _vast _number of Sangheili's dashing through the street of a human city, unleashing destruction as they went, in the background, cars had been overturned, destroyed, and the normally smooth taramac covering the highway had been erected, sporting deep, irreparable cracks. The normally-blue sky was thick with pollution, and _there, _to the far right, layed a ship! Similiar to the ones the 'Covenant' used!  
'Does _this _break the terms of the agreement?' The Admiral asked, blantently retorically.  
'Why yes, yes ma'am!' the solider replied, quick as a flash! '_This _scale of offense was not seen since-'  
'The Halo wars, very good.' The Admiral interrupted, killing the feed. She once again made her way towards the Spartan, burning her eyes directly into the young woman.  
'There's a reason why most of your company has been dispatched.' The Admiral continued, now gesturing to the large window. There, a thousand kilometers away, layed the planet formally known as 'Reach', a defeated military base at the peak of the war of old. Now, it was once again human-occupied, albeit by civilians, known as 'New Reach United.'  
'There has been _multiple _instances of what you just saw, repeated across _dozens _of human-occupied planets, and the Arbitar _refuses _to accept responsibility for all this! It's infuriating!' The Admiral shouted, displaying a blatent lack of professionality! The Sparatn, however, didn't posses the courage nor the clearance to point that out.  
'Totally understandable, Ma'am.' she replied, 'Permission to speak freely?'  
The Admiral paused, and looked towards the historic planet.  
'Permission granted.' she replied, suddenly weary. 'What's on your mind?'  
'To start with, the Arbitar may be speaking the truth,' Spartan-634 responded, forming her answer carefully. 'History has told us that the Sangheili have broken into a number of splinter factions before, when they launched their civil war against the Covenant, and again against humanity, this time known as the 'Storm Covenant', What I'm saying is, all we have to do is interrogate a prisoner, work our way up, discover the leader of thes co-ordinated attacks, and dispatch of him, before we point fingers.'  
The words hung in the air, discomfort suddenly befalling the Spartan. Lack of communication around one of the top brass of the UNSC was a terrifying thing, indeed.  
'Exactly.' The Admiral responded, tearing her gaze from her home-planet, 'This is where _you _come in, Elizebeth, Your mission is to launch a co-ordinated attack against what we believe to be an alien encampment here-' she pointed towards the holographic map centered on the table, revealing a 3-dimensional shape of a small planet, unfamiliar to the battle-hardened Spartan. 'In 'Oyesey', ten million kilometers away. You will lead a team of Spartan-II's, you will be briefed on their bio's as soon as we can, get some rest solider, mission begins at 0800 sharp!'  
'Yes Ma'am! The solider saluted, once again standing in rigid formation.  
'Your dismissed.' The Admiral concluded, sighing, and held out her hand, waiting for a handshake. Spartan-634 accepted the gesture in a split-second, careful not to pulverise the old woman's frail hand.  
'It was a pleasure to finally meet one of you.' The Admiral added, before leaving the room, the doors silently sliding shut, removing any indication that she was here!  
Elizebeth stared out the window, where 'New Reach' stood. Why did she have the feeling that something was about to go _incredibly _wrong?


	2. Chapter 2 - 634

Admiral Woulfe stared at the battle feed with grim eyes. Her cup of coffee, long expended, created liquid rings around her paperwork. So clumsy! She would have to replicate them in order to present the important documents, right now, most of the words were only semi-legible.  
The resulting intrusions have caused quite a lot of sleepless nights for many of the top brass, some attempting to form a tactical response, others hoping to bide their time, forming less...'direct' ways of dealing with the problem. The Admiral was sitting on _that _particular fence! She wondered just _how _the Spartan she had instructed to infiltrate another alien foothold would cope under the unusual circumstances, gathering intelligence, rather than engaging the enemy, head-on.  
Woulfe had always harboured reserves for the Spartan's existence. They were unprecedented on the battlefield! They _were , _however, a little...one dimensional.  
This little 'excerise' would test that theory to it's limit, it seemed.  
The old woman witnessed, from the comfort of her chair, the Sangheili unleashing destruction across the defenseless city, completely off-guard and unprepared for the assault! She took a look at the aliens in particular, focusing most of all on their armor. Compared to the history books, the armor was _much _more minimal, the thick plates only covering strategic areas, such as the knees, feet, chest, arms, and head. There were _quite _a number of weak spots, it appeared, that the armor simply couldn't protect! The Admiral watched as well-placed rounds penetrated the unfortunate Sangheili's leg, while other rounds were deflected by primitive shields.  
The energy shield only protected the areas where the armor was set in place. How curious. Yet, this provided a major tactical advantage on our part!  
The doors opened unexpectedly, a Spartan-III strode inside, before freezing, perhaps unaware, and with _good _reason, that an _Admiral _was on board the simple frigate!  
'Admiral!' The Spartan cried, snapping a crisp salute. Woulfe sighed.  
'_One-dimensional didn't even __**begin **__to cover these soliders!' _she thought.  
'At ease, Solider.' The Admiral dimissed with a wave of her hand, trying to rein her tiredness in, agitated.  
'You are to turn around, Spartan, and leave this room, You were not given the proper clearence to learn that an Admiral was on board.' she looked up and down the length of the Warrior's armor, plasma burns marked the chest and leg-pieces, this solider had a rough day.  
'No offense.' Woulfe added, cutting the warrior _some _slack!  
'None taken, Ma'am.' The Spartan replied, perfectly still. 'I was informed that debriefing would occur in this room at precisely 2100, Captain's orders.'  
'Well the _Captain_ was mistaken.' Woulfe replied, losing her patience with her fellow officers. Admiral's weren't the _only _officers that had experienced sleepless nights, it seemed.  
'Apoligies, Ma'am.' the Spartan responded, turning towards the door. 'I hope you enjoy the rest of your time aboard the '_Sun Down Harvest.' _he added, the doors sliding as he left.

Spartan-634 inpected her Head-Piece as mutiple scientists scurried around her, assembling the armor she resided in like a complicated 3D puzzle. An unusual sensation of weight pressed down on the solider's body, before disappearing, the Power-assist seamlessly syncronised with the layers of well-hardened Carbon-Fiber. The visor stared expressionlessly back towards 634, representing the sight many an enemy had faced, witnessing their reflection against the terrifying visor, before they met their doom. The solider donned the last remaining piece of her armor, twisting it with a satisfying '_click' _as the internal atmosphere hightened, and then lowered, representing the same pressure as outside the battle-suit. To the warrior's right, multiple men grumbled and swore, just within earshot. To the solider's experienced eye, these recruits were realitively clumsy and un-coordinated, flinching and looking around, utterly distracted. Elizebeth knew that out in the battle-field, with their adrenaline peaking, they would be a force to be reckoned with, but _here, now, _they were little more than a nuisance!  
'Your all set-up, Ma'am!' One of the scientists announced, her team standing a full three-feet away from the lone Spartan, cautious as ever. 634 would be too, if she was staring at a ton-and-a-half of flesh and metal, part-dream, part-nightmare!  
'We'll need to run some diagnostics!' Another Scientist claimed, holding a large medallion within his hands. The object sported a small green light, perched on top of the alloy.  
'We'll need you to point towards the light.' The first Scientist explained.  
The solider obeyed, performing the initial testing seamlessly, satisfying the scientific specialists. No easy feat, when it came to billions of dollors worth of advanced UNSC technology surrounding the Spartan-III's frame.  
'Your good to go!' A third Scientist exclaimed, handing me my gear-bag. 'Shoot some of the bastards for me!'  
The Spartan smiled, enjoying dear memories of tearing apart the Alien hoardes, getting away with it too. Days like those don't just show up, unannounced anymore.  
The Warrior's daydreaming was interrupted by a flicker of static coursing through her COMMS channel. Admiral Woulfe's voice filtered through the suit's external speakers, allowing the UNSC troops to hear of the upcoming development.  
'_This is Rear-Admiral Amanda Woulfe of the UNSC council, There has been...a development.'  
_The Spartan froze! 'Developments' was slang around here for 'snags.'  
'_The Alien encampment has occured on the planet 'A406', which was due for human inhabition, and is clearly within human-controlled space. However, The enemy has disputed this, and have formed a considerable fortress, comprising of, if our records were to be believed, a hundred-thousand Unggoy, Ten-thousand Sangheili...and one hundred Lekgolos.'  
_I froze. 'Lekgolos' were known as 'Hunters' a hundred years ago, during the war! They were virtually mobile tanks, decimating and destroying all that stood in the way..._including _Sparatans! The UNSC force, in comparison, were majorly, halariously, outgunned, and outnumbered!

'_Planet A406 is right next to Harvest,' _Admiral Woulfe continued, pausing to deliberate before she spoke again, '_The planet was the first to be glassed and destroyed by the Covenent, We will NOT allow this to happen again! You will strike at the very heart of the fortification, You will be led by Master Petty Officer-First Class, Spartan 634, the objective is to take out the main operator of this resistance, interrogate them, and discover the reason of this blantant ignorance of the agreement. You will be briefed on Step 2 when we gather the nessecery intelligence, best of luck!'  
_The channel ended, silencing communications.  
'You heard the lady!' 634 shouted, resulting in the ODST's to stand in rigid-solid formation.  
'We have our orders! We have a bird waiting in the wings at 0800 sharp! The Uglies are throwing a party, and they didn't. invite. us. Now isn't that just _rude!'  
'Yes Ma'am!' _The battalion chanted in unison!  
'Damn _straight!' _The Spartan continued, grinning from ear to ear inside her armor.  
'Pack light, but deadly. No RPG's, we're gonna be dancing with MB-10's and shotgun shells! We'll need 2-weeks supply of rations, water, anything essential! Suit up, Ladies!'  
The ODST's saluted, and marched orderly outside the enormous room, leaving the Spartan behind.

Woulfe watched the battle feed once more, this time focusing on the Human side within the conflict. No less than _three_ Spartans supplimented the scattered police force, tackling the diminitive alien force, the Spartans taking expert positions, utterly efficent with the way they used their weapons, as if they were an extension of their bodies. The Admiral watched in disbelief as the super-soliders tore through the weak Alien defense, relying on close-range weapons blades more than their automatic weapons, silencing their foes. It was _quite _clear, judging from the feed, that the Unggoy had fired the first salvo, Woulfe played back the video, witnessing just _how _the scenario escalated. Plasma soured through the air, scalding a number of innocent civilians. _This _would be an interesting piece of evidence for our little 'friends' in Shanghelios. The Admiral silenced the video, her time about the frigate was done, she _had _her what she came here for.  
'Decrpytic Night, I'm ready to go.' she announced, weary. A flicker of light flodded the room, accumalating in the Admiral's personal micro-AI to appear on a disk, on the table. The AI was refreshingly contemporary, choosing the shape of a human boy, garnishing a sword. _Most _AI's would have appeared more contrast, ranging from simple cubes to dramatic pieces of 'Art'!  
'Messege sent. _'Galatica Moon' _is closing in on your position.' The Articial Intelligence responded, his voice mimicking the ten-year old he was attempting to portray to good effect.  
'Thank you.' Woulfe responded, the cue for the AI to disassimilate, tending to other duties. The woman paused, turning to look towards 'New Reach' once more. she sighed. Her Grandmother, as well as the rest of her family, remembered the fight. Remembered the battle. Remembered the _fear _that accompanied every passing day, relying only on the Spartan-II's, created by Dr. Halsey, such a pity she died before she could witness her creations, her _Master Chief, _save the human race, quite literally!

The Admiral only wished that history was not about to repeat itself!


	3. Chapter 3 - The Council, And The Strike!

Madal 'Vadamee surveyed the council with grim eyes.

Many of the Sangheili, called upon in this hour of need, sat impatiently aboard the '_Imperial Travesty', _Agitation threatening to erupt the so-far dignified atmosphere. Of the 23 officials residing here, almost half were Elders, requiring great effort to travel from the four corners of Sanghelios. 'Vadamee felt a deep regret, sorry for hastily ordering their presence in such short notice.  
But the dilema at hand was simply _too _large to ignore!  
'Brothers!' The Arbitar began, raising his arms in solitude, 'I welcome you here, aboard the '_Imperial Travesty'. _For those among you who are not yet aware of the growing issues at hand, I have summoned you here to discuss a problem - One that needs to be silenced, _now!'  
_The Arbitar placed his hand on the glowing orbital, moving his fingers in a complicated array of patterns. Above them, Multiple holographic screens flickered into life. The Council watched in horror as the projections showcased _Sangheili, _covered in battle armor, desecrating what could only be a Human world, their primitive structures laying desolute.  
'What we have here,' 'Vadamee continued, moving from his command centre, pacing down towards the Elders, 'Are _heritic _members of our race! Attempting to sabotage the code of honour set forth by our predecessors!, Attempting to desercrate _peace!_'  
He raised his hand towards one screen in particular, enlarging it. From this particular hologram, the Sangheili were aided by many of the dimunitive aliens, the Unggoy, as _well _as scores of Lekgolos, collectively known as 'Hunters' by the Humans. They Aliens unleashed a salvo of plasma from their fuel-rod cannons, causing devastating damage, destroying the Human who was recording this data. The screen disappeared, no more information left to display. The Arbitar took the time to look into each individual Sangheili's face, connecting with them on a personal level, an important trait a leader must carry.  
'Brothers, I require your assistance in this time of need! '_Travesty' _is to depart towards the core Human world, Earth, in a matter of cycles, and I am requesting your presence, in an attempt to show the Humans that we bear no responsibility for this outrage!' 'Vadamee explained, as close to pleading as a Fleet master was allowed to bear. 'The Ninth Age of Reclamation ended with violence and slaughter, we must _not _allow the conclusion of _this _Age to suffer the same fate!'  
The Sangheili shifted uneasily in their seats, torn between opposing feelings, 'Vadamee could feel it.  
'_I _will aid you on your journey!' One of the more junior officials, Sel 'Toramee, declared, rising on his two feet, standing proud. The Arbitar began to feel hope. This young warrior would be a useful ally.  
'I, too, will stand by you as we pledge our race's innocence!' An Elder, Thel ' Hordamee, announced, struggling to rise on his own two feet, requiring his ancient staff to regain his balance.  
'Thank you.' 'Vadmee whispered. Of all the Sangheili residing here, 'Hordamee traveled the longest, arriving in the comfort of the powerful vessel mere cycles ago! The _rest _of the Council, however, were busy discussing amongst themselves the request at hand. Impatient whispers filled the air. The Arbitar stood above them, waiting. Another Elder rose from the ranks, clearing his throat, his four madibles opening wide as he began to speak.  
'It is with deep regret, Arbitar, that we have decided _not _to follow you on your Journey. We only have the utmost respect for 'Hordamee, who will travel with you, despite his advancing age. _We, _however, feel that we are not up to the physical and mental challenge of residing amongst a ship, even one as _capable _as the _'Imperial Travesty'_, and travel to the Human's home-world. Some of us...still harbour reservations on what happened in Ages of old.'  
'Vadmee remained standing, refusing to allow the disappointment to breah through his faux air of confidence.  
'Very well.' he conceded, pacing around the Council, 21 of the Sangheilis the Arbitar _thought _were loyal refusing to stand by his side. The Fleet-Master saved his resentment, ashamed. It was these unnessecery distractions that allowed the false Porphets to rule over their Fathers!  
'I respect your decision,' he continued, arriving by his two willing escort's side, 'And know that I would not force such a responsibility on your heavy shoulders. I respect the fact that you consider yourselves too _old _to accompany us.'  
The rest of the Sangheilis bowed their heads, some proceeding to stand, about to leave. Their honour was scarred, and that would _never _fade away! For all the changes that occured in this Age, Honour was _still _the dominant aspect of a Sangheili's life.  
'You are dismissed.' 'Vadamee concluded, 'And thank you for hearing out this problem, may the Gods serve you well on your journey.'  
The doors closed, sliding together with a near-silent '_hiss'.  
_The Arbitar turned towards the two remaining officials, One blessed with the vitality of youth, the other, experience of age.  
'Thank you.' 'Vadamee gestured, placing each hand on each Sangheili's shoulder. 'You have shown great honour, The Gods will smile kindly on you towards the Great Journey. As soon as the Arbitar had said this, multiple Sangheili poured into the room, ready to escort the two officials to their Ships' accomodation. 'Haordamee bowed. the gesture spoke volumes, and 'Vadamee appeared visibly moved.  
'You have given us life,' the elder Sangheili whispered, finding it difficult to raise his voice. 'By the Gods, we will not let you down!'  
'I have full confidence in you.' the Arbitar replied, helping the Elder to his feet. Both of my willing allies bowed, and turned to leave, the Sangheili escorting the officials outside. The door closed behind them, leaving the Fleet-Master alone with his thoughts.

*...*

The Pelican soared boldly through the sky, tearing through the atmosphere! The nose of the spacecraft reached 500C', and kept rising, as the planet's landscape unfolded to greet the human occupants. Lush rainforests contrasted with the snow-capped mountains, creating a dramatic backdrop! Spartan-634 held on tight, the only solider standing within the Pelican's loading bay. The ODST troopers, meanwhile, were strapped into their seats, four-point harnasses protecting them from the high _g_-forces. Normally, the _Orbital Drop Shock Troopers _would be strapped within a semi-solid 'Pod, sailing through the air, experiencing what they called a 'Hard Landing'. Travelling within the stripped-out Pelican-III must have been an absolute luxury for them. _Why _they were here, however, was to prevent the Alien intruders from perhaps spotting numbers of aircraft, automaticlly raising an alarm! One blip on their rader, meanwhile, may just slip by unnoticed.  
'_Two minutes to dirt.' _The Pilot announced through the suprisingly primitive speakers. It irritated 634 just how little telecommunications had progressed in the past century, her COMMS channel being the sole exception. She turned to face her battalion, helmet in hand.  
'You heard the Man!' she announced, barely audible over the spacecraft's terrifyingly loud engines. 'We've got to crash this little party those Sangheili freaks have going on down there, so suit up! We don't know just how long we'll be active, so say your goodbyes, this might just be the most relaxing period of your life, so make the best of it!'  
The Soliders remained tight-lipped, securing what they could reach within their seating, some hefting their semi-automatic weapons, others tightening what provisions they had, knives properly secure, bullet-proof armor fastened. The Pelican-III began to re-adjust it's angle of decent, signifying that it was about to land. Right on cue, the doors opened, revealing the landscape rapidly rushing to meet it's occupants.  
'Lock and Load, Ladies!' one of the commanding officers shouted, releasing himself from his seating arrangement. His company obeyed, shunning their ammunition inside their rifles, rising to their feet, rapidly removing themselves from the spacecraft. 634 donned the final piece of her amour, satisfied as the HUD calibrated with her vision, a targeting indicator present within the middle of the visor. She followed her battalion, creating foot-shaped craters as the ton-and-a-half of Spartan's feet touched the fragile soil. The deafening sounds of the Pelican's engine soon faded away as the spacecraft lurched into the air, taking cover within the forest, on standby. The Warrior surveyed the situation, noticing the tactical advantage a nearby tree-covered hill provided. 634 creeped silently through the foilage, branches and leaves parted effortlessly by her armor. The Spartan was pleased to witness the ODST's sharing her tactical knowledge, the battalion practiclly rolling out the red carpet for her as she reached the miniature summit.  
'Welcome to Camp ohh-rah, Ma'am!' one of the soliders commented, nodding towards the Spartan as she made her way towards the majority of the company, having already set up a primitive foil in a semi-circle formation, protecting the human invaders from radar and masking their heat signitures, protecting them from the enemy's eyes.  
'We got activity, _lots _of it!' the Luitenant whispered, offering the Spartan his personal binoculars. 634 accepted them, viewing for herself the Alien encampment. Methane Pods littered the relatively low-lying plain ahead, used as breathing spaces for the clumsy Unggoy. Within these structures, however, stood what appeared to be...a Covenant dropship, or at least, _part _of one. The Purple-hued camp was an anomaly, the first fortification _not _to utilise the natural surroundings in the three-week period of alien intrusions. This unnerved 634, though she couldn't quite place her finger on it. She handed the device to the Luitenant, unshething her rifle.  
'Split the company into two factions, Red team,' 634 nodded to roughly half the soliders to her left 'Flank the target through the forest, wait for our signal, and then strike, silent, but deadly, no mishaps.' The Spartan then turned to the remaining ODST troops, 'Blue team, proceed straight towards the Alien bastards, draw their line of fire, and when the time is right, give the signal, allow Red to catch them with their pants down!'  
The two teams nodded silently, proceding to the tasks at hand, unimagineably more determined and efficent then they appeared within the Frigate! Spartan-634 paused, staring the the top of the fortification - 300 metres from here.

She would need to do what she does best, become the unfortunate Alien's worst nightmare.


	4. Chapter 4- Red Team, Blue Team

634 moved silenty through the Forest's undergrowth, maintaining as much stealth as she possibly could. The fortification ahead puzzled the Spartan. In less than a month, the UNSC had discovered, and eliminated, the vast majority of the Aliens as they discovered that they carried weapons, ammunition, as well as Plasma Grenades. _Why _they were here in the first place, however, made no sense whatsoever. It has been a _century _since the Human-Covenant war, and 634 would have comfortably assumed that high-rising tensions would have eased by now.  
But was that a safe assumption to make?  
Rain began to filter down towards the company, raindrops trickling down the Spartan's visor. She smiled. The percipitation would further conceal their movements, essential if this insertion was to be successful. A series of amber lights flickered across the Spartan's HUD. They came from Red Team, indicating that they were in position.  
Good.  
'Ma'am, Target in 100 metres.' the commanding UNSC officer whispered into COMMS, the solider roughly 20m to her right. The team was performing perfectly thus far. 'Do you want Stealth, or Theatre?'  
'What's 'Theatre?'' The Spartan replied, skeptical. A near-silent chuckle crackled through her COMMS feed, a mark of unprofessiality on the ODST's part.  
'This.' he responded, _just _as a number of MB-10 rounds _sailed _through the air, picking at the first line of Unggoy. The Aliens collapsed with a wet '_Thud'_, prompting more of it's brothers to scamper towards them, wondering what had happened.  
The rounds exploded with all the force of an old-fashioned Fragementation Grenade, sending the rest of the stupid Aliens soaring!  
The _rest _of the force, however, began to fetch their Plasma Pistols, knowing they were being attacked. Before long, stray shots of dangerous Plasma shot left, right and centre as the Spartan and her company reached for cover. The Tree's bark melting away as the well-placed shots impacted. 634 turned from her hiding place, firing three rounds, picking off three Grunts. These Aliens, however, died _right _next to one of the Methane pods, their source of air.  
634 allowed herself a smile of satisfaction, and pulled the detonation button.  
The expended rounds exploded, detonating the precious Methane within, igniting it in a fiery burst of Orange-Blue fire! The blast created a twenty-feet crater, incinerating anything within it's radius. The ODST's took a leaf out of the Spartan's book, aiming _directly _for the sphere-shaped pods. In a matter of minutes, the peaceful plain was horribly scarred, much of it now resembled broken ash and dust, as the Unggoy fled towards the safety of their Base, only to be destroyed as their Breathing Spaces detonated around them.  
The Sangheili, however, began to advance towards the Humans, _they _were the real prey!  
634 flashed the red-light within her HUD three times, giving her back-up the required signal.  
As the Elites poured out of the Covenent fragment, a barrage of bullets pinged off of their shields, others simply dissecting the limbs the armor couldn't protect. detonations followed soon after, destroying the Aliens unfortunate enough to have been shot. Spartan-634 dashed from her cover, sprinting towards her enemies. A pair of titanium blades extruded from the Arm-pieces within her armor, decimating the Sangheili before her. The Spartan payed close attention to the Alien's armor, noticing it's weak spots, and proceeding to take full advantage! An unusually large Sangheili aimed it's Pistol towards her, and fired, too close to miss. The Plasma seared towards 634's chest, yet was dispersed effortlessly by the armor's advanced shields. 634 would allow the 1/3 shield drop the shot provided, and swung her right arm as quickly as she could, slicing the weapon from the Alien's grubby hands! The Sangheili discarded the useless weapon, and looked around him. His allies were being torn apart, warriors, being defeated and picked off as if they were babies! 634 spotted Red Team, flanking the Alien's base, expertly taking advantage, shooting the remaining Unggoy before taking aim at the more powerful enemies. The Alien placed it's hands above it's head, stunning the lone Spartan. Was it _surrendering?  
_As the Sangheili fell to it's knees, however, a much more _dangerous _threat greeted her, aiming it's weapon straight towards her.  
A _Legkolo!  
'Sorry.' _The Sangheili muttered with broken English, opening it's four mandibles in a brief approximation of a smile.  
634 ducked, missing the Fuel-Rod Cannon's burst of deadly Plasma by _inches! _Her allies, however, weren't so lucky. _Two _of the Soliders were caught in the fiery blast, one looked down at his torso...completely evaporated, before clumping to the ground. The _second _solider, however, fired his rifle, _just _before the blast destroyed the entire left-hand side of his body, including his heart. The round lodged itself within the Legkolo's weapon, momentarily distracting it, providing 634 with the opportunity she needed! She dashed towards her fallen comrade's weapon, leaping to the ground as a number of plasma shots reached her back, depleting her Shields. 634 retreived the MB-10, flung herself around to face her enemy, and pressed it's detonation button.  
The Legkolo was attempting to dislodge the stray round when it detonated, _inside _it's weapon! The Alien yelled in pain as shards of metal and organic matter fell to the ground. It's weapon was disabled, yet the _Alien _remained standing! How?  
'_All _fire towards the Hunter!' she ordered, receiving a full- list of Green lights in response. The Alien was doused in a number of rounds, some pinged uselessly against it's battleplate armor, while others found their purchase, slicing _within _the Legkolo, picking off the collection of worm-like creatures within. In a matter of seconds, the Alien ignited as the detonated rounds exploded, reducing the Hunter to little more than pieces of armor! The Alien collapsed, it's occupants squirming uselessly on the ground. 634 looked back up, finding the Sangheili she had battled earlier, now armed with a Plasma sword! It bellowed and charged, straight towards her! It swung dangerously, missing by mere centimetres as the Spartan dodged left and right against the flurry of blows leveled against her. The Spartan allowed one more strike, sailing uselessly past her once again, before clutching the Alien's hand, jerking it in an unnatural angle. The Sangheili screamed, and dropped the weapon, activating it's fail-safe mechanism, forever disabling the sword.  
'Your a stubborn one, aren't you?' 634 whispered sarcastically as the Alien continued to struggle, resulting in the Spartan kneeing it within it's chest. The Alien slumped towards the grass, defeated.  
'Uhh, Ma'am? We have trouble!' Another Solider shouted through COMMS, and the Spartan turned towards the base, leveling her MB-10 towards it.  
_Three _pairs of Legkolo advanced towards Blue Team, charging their Cannons, about to unleash absolute hell!  
'To the Right!' 634 screamed to her company, and shot towards the outline of the Forest, just as the Hunter's salvo was unleashed. With her Armor augmenting her enhanced speed, the Spartan managed to narrowly avoid the deadly arcs of Plasma that rushed towards her. Even so, her abused Shields were left completely drained, and the suit's internal tempeture rocketed to 120 degrees centigrade! 634 could hear the on-board air-conditioning units struggle to compensate. She _knew, _and yet she turned, witnessing where her company stood.  
Or, in this case, _used _to stand.  
Blue Team was gone. What was remaining was smouldering where the Soliders once stood. Their charred and broken Armor representing their graves. The Spartan swore, and fired a trio of bullets, directly towards the Legkolo's neck. It's partner, however, raised it's massive shield, deflecting the rounds into the air, _away _from the Alien convoy!  
The Hunters were _learning _how the Human's weapons worked, and have changed their Battle Plans. _This _spelt trouble!  
'Pelican-076, This is Spartan-634, I am _demanding _that you provide air-support, _now!'  
_The Spartan activated the triangular-piece within her chest plate, summoning copies of the warrior! The Holograms flickered into life, darting and aiming randomly. The Aliens, thankfully, noticed them, and proceeded to aim towards them, unleashing their salvos. They were distracted, for how _long _would mean the difference between life and death!  
634 could hear the sounds of detonation once again, as Red Team once again launched the destructive rounds towards the Lekgolos, catching them off guard! As the rounds exploded once more, One of the Hunters exploded from within, destroyed, while it's partner clutched at it's weapon, the cannon momentarily disabled. 634 sprinted towards her company, using the holograms of herself as a distraction. The Hunters, however, were beginning to figure out that they weren't real, as one of the powerful Aliens bellowed towards a copy, swiping at it with it's battle-plated arm. Of course, it sailed right _through _the hologram, momentarily stunning the Alien, before it turned 180 degrees, aiming at the ODST's to it's right. It's brothers obeyed, advancing towards Red Team's position.  
The roar of engines provided sweet, sweet music to 634's ears!  
The Lekgolos turned, just in time to witness the Pelican-III appear from the Forest's edge. Before they could do anything, it launched a flurry of armor-piercing rounds, grounding their assault.  
This was the distraction Red Team needed.  
'Now!' 634 ordered, and expended her sole-remaining clip towards the Aliens, pressing the detonation button as _soon _as they found their mark! The battalion replied, unleashing deadly arcs of bullets towards their foes. It took a matter of minutes, but the pairs of Hunters were _finally _defeated, bowing to their fate as explosions tore them apart.  
Silence filled the area once more.  
The Spartan shook her head, unable to dispel the faint ringing sound that flowed within her ears. Her eardrum may have been damaged, she would need to get that checked out when she goes shipside. Without a second thought, 634 surveyed her remaining forces, speechless once the numbers hit home. Under her leadership, she had lost roughly 70% of her company! the remaining ODST's, too, sported injuries, one woman in particular was in a serious condition, blood spilling from her side, staining the ground below.  
'We need extraction, ASAP! We have wounded down here!' 634 commanded, resulting in the spacecraft to spin, attempting to land, lowering itself onto the relatively flat surface below. As the ODST's carried the wounded solider towards the Pelican, 634 removed her helmet, allowing herself to breathe in the cool crisp air, unfiltered by her suit's enviormental systems. It didn't matter that they had 'won', with Scientists flooding towards the Base, cautiously probing the surface's exterior. To the Spartan, this felt like a loss. Those wasted lives...


End file.
